Adrian Mole: The Prostrate Years by Sue Townsend

Adrian Mole: The Prostrate Years by Sue Townsend

Author:Sue Townsend [Townsend, Sue]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Humor
ISBN: 9780141931784
Google: QAKQ8fmuV5UC
Publisher: Penguin Books Limited
Published: 2009-11-05T05:00:00+00:00


THURSDAY 6TH DECEMBER

Treatment.

Sally was very quiet. She asked me not to talk about Anthony or Canada.

*

Went to the bookshop. When I asked Bernard to move a carton of Nigella Lawson’s cookery books, which were blocking the entrance to the door, he said, ‘No can do, old cock. I’ve done my back in. You’ll have to wait for the whipper-snapper Hitesh to come in.’

At two thirty Hitesh texted to say that he had broken his ankle falling out of bed.

When I told Bernard, he said, ‘Where’s the lad been sleeping – on the top of a bleedin’ crane?’

So, due to my debilitating weakness and Bernard’s back, Ms Lawson’s books remained inside their carton. Unfortunately, whilst Bernard and I were in the back room sorting through the new stock, Nigel and Lance Lovett came in and fell over the box. I don’t know why Nigel went so mad. It wasn’t as though he physically hurt himself, and I thought it was an hysterical overreaction when he threatened his oldest and best friend with civil action for damages.

However, Lance was very gracious and accepted my apologies, saying, ‘I’m always falling on my arse. We blinkies are clumsy buggers.’

Under my instructions and guidance Lance picked the carton up and dropped it in the back room.

When Nigel kept going on about his tripping over the box, I told him that it was his own fault and in future he should not go out without his dog, his white stick or a sighted person to show him the way.

Nigel said, ‘We came here to buy our Christmas presents, but I’m now thinking I may give my money to Marks & Spencer instead.’

After he had sat down on the sofa and had a cup of coffee, he relented and, ironically, bought six copies of Nigella Express.

Daisy was not home in time for parents’ evening so I went on my own.

Miss Nutt said, ‘In many ways Gracie is a delightful little girl. Despite her… well, eccentricities, she makes friends easily and seems to enjoy her work.’ Then her brow furrowed and she said, ‘However, last week I asked each child to talk about their family and dictate a few sentences to go with the picture they had painted.’ She pointed to a large painting on the back wall, where a stick figure in spectacles was lying horizontal on what looked like grass next to another stick figure with a red mouth and high heels, holding a bottle. Miss Nutt had written (to Gracie’s dictation): ‘My mummy and daddy do drink a lot of vodka and they do lie down and shout at me.’

I glanced at the next picture, drawn by Abigail Stone. The caption said: ‘My family went to Alton Towers and we had a picnic. We did sing in the car.’

I said, ‘I can assure you, Miss Nutt, that neither my wife nor I drink vodka. I’m surprised that Gracie even knows the word.’

Miss Nutt said, ‘Well, she’s heard it from somewhere and she obviously knows the effect of drinking too much.



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